


international aid

by daltonacademyfightclub



Series: real (and not real) Americans [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Community: wrestlingkink, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, injured!Cesaro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:16:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5444615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daltonacademyfightclub/pseuds/daltonacademyfightclub
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:</p><p>I am bummed that Cesaro is going to be out for a few months now too. I am craving some h/c for him now too.<br/>I would love to see a fic with his lover(s) taking care of him. Maybe looking after him after his surgery, offering comfort.<br/>I don't have a preference as to the pairing so that is writer's choice. Use your favorite Cesaro pairing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	international aid

“You worry about me too much, _mein bärchen_ ,” Antonio said quietly, one arm in a sling while the other cradled a mug of black coffee. “You need to be in the gym preparing, not making me food.”

“I’m only an hour away from tonight’s show and I’ve got _plenty_ of time, believe me.” Jack was in the kitchen of the tiny apartment he and his (romantic, but former tag-team) partner rented in northern Virginia. “All they want me to do tonight is talk smack about Alberto tonight, and then I’m free to come back home. As far as I can tell, this whole ‘League of Nations’ bullshit is just another excuse to take me out of the title picture.”

Antonio smiled when Jack called the apartment ‘home’ - it felt nice to have some place where the two of them could put down roots at any given time. When they were both on the road, it was typically up for rent on airbnb, none of their tenants even the least bit aware that they were in a couple of professional wrestlers’ home. It was a nice additional source of income, but since he needed the space for himself now, it would just be him for a while.

“Language,” he chided, chuckling at the grumpy face Jack shot him from where he was on the couch from the kitchen.

“For someone who speaks five of them, you sure do have an issue with me swearing, ‘Tonio.” Jack padded out of the kitchen towards him, his camouflage-print socks making his usually-heavy gait practically silent against the carpet. “The soup’s simmering right now.”

He leaned forward to put his mug on the coffee table in front of him, curling his good arm around his boyfriend as he sat down next to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It’s not gentlemanly.”

“ _Fuck_ being gentlemanly,” Jack countered mischievously, a little glint in his eye. “You like my dirty mouth just as much as I like yours.”

He just smiled and shook his head. Times like this only made him better understand why Tyson outright told him that he thought the two of them were the oddest couple he’d ever met. Jack’s boisterousness and nationalism didn’t match up with Antonio Cesaro, ultimate reserved citizen of the world on paper, but in actuality, Antonio figured they were one of the more stable pairs on the roster.

“Whatever you say, _schnuckiputzi_.” He watched as Jack wrinkled up his nose again in confusion and grinned. He knew Jack knew it wasn’t an insult, but Antonio didn’t whip out the word often enough for him to catch onto the meaning. “It’s like, ah… ‘cutie-pie’. It’s silly.”

“Ah.” Jack nodded. “You know, you’ve been on a bit of a German kick lately. You’re even dreaming in it again.” Jack slid down to put his feet up on the couch next to him, his head dropping to right under Antonio’s arm before yawning. “Maybe I won’t even go in tonight. Let myself get fired or fined or whatever, and then I can come back here and be a good little house-husband for you.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Antonio said before Jack raised an eyebrow as if he were interpreting that as a challenge. “Let me rephrase that: you _shouldn’t_ do that, Jackie.”

“What, you don’t want me to be at your beck and call after your surgery on Thursday?” Jack snaked an arm around Antonio’s waist, hugging him gently. “Spoiling you rotten, taking care of all your needs?”

“ _All_ of them, hm?” It was his turn to raise his eyebrows. “You do remember that the surgeon said that I’m not to use my shoulder at all for at least two days, no?” He reached up to tousle Jack’s hair, enjoying the way whole blond strands wrapped around his fingers. Jack may look tough enough on the outside, but at the end of the day, he was Antonio’s _bärchen_ , his little bearcub through and through.

Jack nodded, keeping his head still enough to keep Antonio’s hand there. “Of course I do. I would just rather be here with you rather than wishing I was.”

“I know you would,” Antonio assured him. “But someone’s got to be out there getting slammed into the mat, and since I’m out of, um, how would you say it -”

“Work? Commission?” Jack turned his head to look up at him.

“Commission, yes. Since I am out of commission, it looks like you’re the one.”

“Alright. Only because you said it though… and I honestly don’t want to get fired.” Jack sat back up, taking care not to jostle himself around too much as he moved his legs back down from the couch to the floor. “Before I go, though, I’m making sure you have some food in you.”

Antonio rolled his eyes, standing up with Jack to go to the kitchen. “I’m not completely an invalid,” he reminded him, taking advantage of his position behind Jack to smack the man’s ass lightly, smirking when he heard the typical yelp. “Go get better clothes on. I will serve myself the soup.”

Jack turned around, about to refuse to go before deciding against it. “Fine,” he obliged, throwing his hands up before tilting his head up to kiss Antonio’s cheek. “But if you can’t get a good ‘nough grip on the ladle, don’t push yourself. I will take care of it.”

“Of course, _liebling_. Now go on, go!” He picked up what he assumed was the spoon Jack had left out for him next to his bowl and waved it at Jack. “Shoo!”

“Sir, yes sir,” Jack saluted teasingly before heading to their bedroom. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you, Antonio!”

Antonio just hummed as he slowly put the soup bowl in the hand in the sling, measuring out ladlefuls of homemade chicken noodle soup with the other. Whatever Jack Swagger ended up doing with him, it was definitely going to be good.

* * *

WWE being its usual self, of course, meant Jack ended up not even getting out of the stadium until ten-thirty. “I was only even here to cut a promo,” he told Dolph, who was treating himself to snack cakes he’d snuck past concessions. “Antonio’s probably just dozing off, if not already asleep, and I’m still an hour out from home.”

“Hey, at least you have clearance until the Raw before the Rumble, man,” Dolph reminded him, cramming the last bit of the cake into his mouth. “Mo’ time to shpend wiff ‘Tonio.”

“True, true.” Despite how lucky he knew he was to get what he already had without question, he wished that it was longer. Or, better yet, that his boyfriend didn’t even have to have surgery after all. But left with no other choices, what he had to work with would have to do. “I’ll catch you later, man. Happy holidays, ‘right?”

Dolph nodded with his mouth full and clapped him on the back before speaking. “Same to you, man. Tell Swiss Miss I said hi too.” Jack snorted at the nickname and left.

The drive back upstate was boring, especially considering that he wasn’t looking forward to just heading to bed when he got back, no cuddling or anything. Rotator cuff injuries were no joke when it came to lack of mobility, but his Antonio was dealing with it like a trooper.

His phone buzzed on top of his jacket on the passenger’s side. _Staying awake until you are home_ followed by a sparkling heart emoji flashed on his screen from Antonio, making Jack light up brighter than a Christmas tree (which, now that they were both going to be home for the holidays, he figured they should set up). He was only about fifteen minutes out at that point, and the knowledge that he wasn’t going to be the only one up when he got in kept him optimistic the rest of the way.

“Babe, I’m home,” he called into the hallway as he dropped his keys and phone on the kitchen counter, heading to the fridge to get himself a glass of milk. Antonio had apparently taken the liberty of ladling out the soup into tupperware containers to put in the fridge, but the big pot and everything that went with it was sitting in the sink unwashed. _I’ll get to that tomorrow,_ Jack decided, pouring his milk before looking out over the breakfast nook at the living room, amused at what he saw there.

How he’d managed to not notice that the TV was left on but muted when he walked in, he didn’t know, but there was Antonio, lying on the sofa with his bad shoulder up, Jack’s blanket with all fifty states on it draped over his entire body save for his feet poking out at the other end. _That’s just fuckin’ adorable,_ he laughed to himself, taking a swig of milk before going out to the living room with his phone and snapping a picture for posterity before kneeling down in front of Antonio to wake him up.

“Hey, you,” Jack whispered softly, running a hand over Antonio’s head with a smile. “Fell asleep on me here, huh?”

“Whuh?” Antonio muttered as he opened his eyes slowly, Jack still smiling at how out of it he was. “Oh, _oui_. _Désolé_.”

“Don’t worry about it, _Fraulein_ ,” Jack teased, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek before taking Antonio’s phone off the side of the sofa to go put in its charger for the night. “Want me to help get you back to the bedroom?”

“Mhm,” Antonio nodded, tugging the blanket further up over him, exposing more of his feet at the other end. “Lift, please.”

Jack clucked his tongue. Without the other man’s help, he was going to have to have an interesting hold on him to get him into his arms and all the way back to the back without disturbing his bad arm. “Alright, scoot forward.”

When Antonio did, Jack got his arms around him to hoist him up into a fireman’s carry, taking care to keep the sling stable. “Oof. There we go. You alright back there?”

“ _Ja_.” Antonio snuffled, and Jack figured that he probably had a good thirty seconds to make it to the bed before his boyfriend was passed out again. He was already tired enough to start answering in whatever language popped up in his mind first.

“Alright, we’re on the move,” he informed him, and walked the both of them slowly back to their bedroom, letting himself fall slowly back onto the bed to let Antonio just peel off like a limp human sticker. “There we go.”

“ _Baciami_ ,” Antonio mumbled, his eyes barely opening but looking at Jack at the middle of the bed. “Kiss.”

Jack smiled and scooted up to kiss Antonio slowly, shifting the covers around to tuck both the man and his blanket from before under them as he pressed their lips together. With a slight squeak, he pulled away, smoothing the covers around the other man as he went. “Night, babe. Sweet dreams.”


End file.
